April 13, 2009 marks my second year at Taft Federal Prison Camp. Two years is a long time to spend anywhere. The journey, or whatever you want to call this, is almost over. I have three and a half months before I leave the camp and go to the halfway house.
A lot has happened since my last quarterly update in mid-January. It was only about a week after my last update when several friends of mine were baptized. For those of you who are unfamiliar with what baptism is, I’ll briefly explain. Getting baptized is an outward or public statement that you are a follower of Jesus Christ. The act of being submersed in water and coming out symbolizes Jesus’ death and resurrection. To many Christians, it’s an important event and one that we celebrate. Because the Protestant church here encompasses many denominations, these men were not being baptized into a church or to a specific denomination. They just wanted to show publicly that they had received Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior.
The event was important to me because a couple of guys with whom I had spent considerable time, were baptized. It was encouraging to me to see that my relationships with these men were worthwhile. It was bittersweet as well because one guy in particular with whom I was a good friend has left Taft Camp to go to the drug program. I miss the friendship and laughs that we shared, but I know the drug program will help him get more time off his sentence and allow him to resume his life [sooner].
It turns out that this past three months could be summarized by “friends leaving”. In late March, my bunkee Munson, left. I had lived with Munson for fourteen months, about half of my total time here. Munson made me laugh and he was a great bunkee. I’m a big believer in having a bunkee you get along with. It makes the time much easier to do. Why add stress to an already stressful situation? Sometimes you can’t help whom you live with, but with patience you usually can reduce a bad situation from occurring.
My Dad is a good example. He lived in a two-man cube for fourteen months before he moved. He now lives with me. He might have been able to move sooner, but he probably would have gotten an unknown bunkee, a middle two-man cube and a cube not much quieter than what he had. I’m not going to say my cube location is any quieter than his other options, but it’s a window cube, which, in my opinion, is highly preferable.
I’ve only lived with my Dad a few weeks now, but I would rather have Dad than most other options. My Dad is very different from Munson. Munson would talk, make jokes, and converse on a variety of topics. My Dad mostly reads and does crossword puzzles. My Dad can converse on a wide variety of topics; he just usually doesn’t. Nonetheless, I’m glad I have some sense of familiarity. I’m learning some things about my Dad that I didn’t know. For one, I had no idea he did crossword puzzles or Soduko. I had no idea he like corn chips so much, either. He is very routine, which explains a lot about where I got my anal retentive personality. It’s from my Dad!
Probably my closest friend during my time here left on Easter Sunday. Doug had been here twenty-two months. Those twenty-two months were much better for me having someone to talk to and laugh with. Doug was an answer to my prayers early on that I could find a close friend.
Other than friends leaving, I’ve managed to work my way up to $50 a month in pay. I’m probably in the top ten percent of income earners amongst the inmates. It’s probably the only time in my life I’ll be in the top ten percent of income earners anywhere. My job as the fire/safety clerk has improved. I’ve managed to inform the staff of my job duties and demonstrate that I actually do my job. Life is much easier. I enjoy my office and the privacy. You don’t get much time to be alone, to write or think without interruption, so my office is an oasis. As I’ve written earlier, I’m making the job work for me.
Unfortunately I’m not playing soccer anymore. I found that I was getting injured frequently. I’ve been battling some sort of abdominal strain for a while. I’ve been walking a lot though and have recently started jogging again. So far I feel o.k.
That’s pretty much it for now.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Has Prison Changed Me?
One of my close friends is leaving Taft in a couple of weeks. As we walked the track one evening, he made a comment that intrigued me. He said, “I have to look at myself and see if this experience in prison has made me more aggressive.” I had to think about that for a couple of weeks and look at my behavior as well.
I know that being arrested, shackled, and escorted before a judge in 2004 changed me. I had to reconsider who I was based on what I valued. Was I valuing my family, my spiritual beliefs, my possessions or something else? I came to the conclusion that much of my life was hypocrisy. What I said I valued I did really put as a high priority in my decisions. I tried for the three years that I was on pre-trial to implement a new set of values based on new priorities. I came to prison thinking that I had done an ok job of reprioritizing my life.
The challenge was being in prison. If there is anyone out there who thinks that prison is designed to rehabilitate, let me assure you that it is not. Rehabilitation is a change made by the individual. The system, in my opinion, works against you. Even though I came in here with the intent of living my life with different guiding principles, I was bombarded with the anger, bitter, aggressive and selfish culture that exists in every level of prison. I’m at the lowest level of security of incarceration and it is prevalent even here.
I’ve already written about how I found a good couple of friends. I am a Christian and I wanted to find other guys who shared that priority. I was blessed to be able to do so. Even so, the challenge of not allowing the culture of this place to change me confronted me daily and still does. You come to realize that the staff, for the most part, does not care. This creates an overall environment of bitterness, anger and resentment towards the system. You can’t earn anything. There is no obtainable objective by complying with their rules. In fact, I’ve seen in-mates benefit, who have deliberately not complied with the rules. It takes a great deal of patience to accept the seemingly whimsical approach the staff takes when evaluating inmates for jobs, furloughs, bunk assignments, half-way house, etc.
If you can accept that the environment is not a traditional merit-based system, then you have to contend with the general inmate philosophy. Not unlike “the outside”, inmates are selfish. I can accept that. However, inmates, unlike people on “the outside” are also aggressive. This doesn’t mean they are physically aggressive, although many of them are. Even the older ones are aggressive in terms of power or opinion or even things. I wrote in one of my earliest blogs that sometimes you just have to be wrong here. It’s the easiest way to defuse a situation. As I have adapted and gained some wisdom I wonder if I have also become more stubborn. I don’t know if I’m the one who is wrong as much. On Monday night I watch a t. v. show called “Chuck”. I’m only one of two guys who watch. Because I’ve been here for almost two years, I think the new guys defer to me because they are one being humble. I want to watch my show and these new guys will have to wait for their day. This is how my attitude has changed.
I started to notice this in soccer. I’ve always been competitive, and I’ve always struggled with my attitude in soccer. That same attitude of arrogance erupted again here. It required an extreme amount of self-control to refrain from allowing my pride to evolve into anger during some soccer games. I’ve decided against playing sports for the duration of my time.
As I prepare to return home, I think about the kind of husband and father I want to be. I certainly don’t want to take some of the prevailing attitudes from prison home. Somehow, over the next four months I need to relearn compassion, gentleness, patience and love—the attitudes that will make me a successful husband and father. The attitudes that I have adapted here are not going to help me be successful when I go home. I’m not sure how I will learn these other than trying to apply them to situations when the common response is usually the exact opposite. It will be a challenging four months.
I know that being arrested, shackled, and escorted before a judge in 2004 changed me. I had to reconsider who I was based on what I valued. Was I valuing my family, my spiritual beliefs, my possessions or something else? I came to the conclusion that much of my life was hypocrisy. What I said I valued I did really put as a high priority in my decisions. I tried for the three years that I was on pre-trial to implement a new set of values based on new priorities. I came to prison thinking that I had done an ok job of reprioritizing my life.
The challenge was being in prison. If there is anyone out there who thinks that prison is designed to rehabilitate, let me assure you that it is not. Rehabilitation is a change made by the individual. The system, in my opinion, works against you. Even though I came in here with the intent of living my life with different guiding principles, I was bombarded with the anger, bitter, aggressive and selfish culture that exists in every level of prison. I’m at the lowest level of security of incarceration and it is prevalent even here.
I’ve already written about how I found a good couple of friends. I am a Christian and I wanted to find other guys who shared that priority. I was blessed to be able to do so. Even so, the challenge of not allowing the culture of this place to change me confronted me daily and still does. You come to realize that the staff, for the most part, does not care. This creates an overall environment of bitterness, anger and resentment towards the system. You can’t earn anything. There is no obtainable objective by complying with their rules. In fact, I’ve seen in-mates benefit, who have deliberately not complied with the rules. It takes a great deal of patience to accept the seemingly whimsical approach the staff takes when evaluating inmates for jobs, furloughs, bunk assignments, half-way house, etc.
If you can accept that the environment is not a traditional merit-based system, then you have to contend with the general inmate philosophy. Not unlike “the outside”, inmates are selfish. I can accept that. However, inmates, unlike people on “the outside” are also aggressive. This doesn’t mean they are physically aggressive, although many of them are. Even the older ones are aggressive in terms of power or opinion or even things. I wrote in one of my earliest blogs that sometimes you just have to be wrong here. It’s the easiest way to defuse a situation. As I have adapted and gained some wisdom I wonder if I have also become more stubborn. I don’t know if I’m the one who is wrong as much. On Monday night I watch a t. v. show called “Chuck”. I’m only one of two guys who watch. Because I’ve been here for almost two years, I think the new guys defer to me because they are one being humble. I want to watch my show and these new guys will have to wait for their day. This is how my attitude has changed.
I started to notice this in soccer. I’ve always been competitive, and I’ve always struggled with my attitude in soccer. That same attitude of arrogance erupted again here. It required an extreme amount of self-control to refrain from allowing my pride to evolve into anger during some soccer games. I’ve decided against playing sports for the duration of my time.
As I prepare to return home, I think about the kind of husband and father I want to be. I certainly don’t want to take some of the prevailing attitudes from prison home. Somehow, over the next four months I need to relearn compassion, gentleness, patience and love—the attitudes that will make me a successful husband and father. The attitudes that I have adapted here are not going to help me be successful when I go home. I’m not sure how I will learn these other than trying to apply them to situations when the common response is usually the exact opposite. It will be a challenging four months.
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